


Blue Jeans

by pippasqueal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippasqueal/pseuds/pippasqueal
Summary: Seeing Miya Atsumu in blue jeans, outside the court, is something you barely witness since you both live different lives. However, one lie and one meal in one innocent night tilted your different lives into a collision you can't escape.[canonverse, post time-skip]
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	1. Amber Eyes

•••

"Don't worry too much," You said to the phone, trying to hold back the whine. You entered a ramen shop, looking for an empty spot—which was located in the back, a single bar stool next to the wall. "It's a nearby inn, and I'll be at the meeting early. Have a good rest, Ma'am."

The stress of working for Schweiden was getting to you. You were supposed to do boring marketing stuff in Schweiden's office, not running around all over the country following a sports team they own. Not to mention you didn't even know what to call yourself. Publicist? Manager? Babysitter?

Today, you flew from Tokyo—with a delayed flight. The person sitting next to you reek of cheap perfume and coughed the entire trip. Then, when you were about to check-in, the hotel made a mistake on the number of rooms you'd booked weeks ago. Now they were full. Guess who needed to sacrifice their room for one of the players?

You sighed as you put your handbag on the bar table, shrugging your coat. It was a cold December night, but the shop was warm and bustling. The guy next to you looked your way when you finally sat down and sighed for the second time. His glance turned into a stare, and you couldn't bear to ignore him anymore.

You couldn't believe it when Miya Atsumu's amber eyes locked with yours.

You saw him the first time in a high school tournament. You just started as Nekoma's manager in your second year, and he was a captain for his team. He was so impressive your eyes glued on him every time his team plays. Or maybe it was just because he looked good.

You never actually spend time with him, but you met him often after high school. Most of it was because of Kuroo or Bokuto, in meetups and get-togethers. The interactions you exchanged were limited to how-are-you and where's-the-bathroom. And little polite smiles here and there.

Right now, he looked at you like you were an angel sent from above. After the recognition and gratitude passed, his eyes screamed uncomfortable, glancing back at the person on his other side.

Huh. A girl was sitting there, obnoxious and loud. She was a little tipsy. She clung onto his arm, pulling him her way playfully. She whined and talked animatedly, even when Atsumu's attention wasn't on her. You knew he wanted you to help him, but you decided to tease him a bit—because you deserved a laugh after the hotel fiasco.

"That's rude," You whispered, accusing him. "Your girlfriend's talking to you, Miya-san."

"I don't know her!" he answered, whispered yelling.

"Then the more reason for you to be nice," You smiled, adding, "Now, if you'll excuse me. I haven't ordered yet."

The girl was now speaking louder. She was asking him to take her home, and him rejecting the idea and asking her to quiet down. While they were busy, you took in his physique. He was in jeans and a white knit sweater. Even in his loose sweater, you could see that he had filled out his muscles, even more than the last time you saw him. Not to mention the way his blue jeans clung to his thighs and calves like a second skin.

The girl started again, interrupting your ogling. She then proceeded to describe the things he'd be doing to her between the sheets, details and all. Those made him looked like a deer in headlights, then he turned to you once again, desperate.

"Listen, get me out of here, and I'll pay for your meals." He spewed deals. "Quick, people are looking."

Oh, you knew that well. You'd spent months working with professional athletes. One of your jobs is to keep them out of media rumours and scandals. Now your working brain was in charge. So much for a good laugh.

"Fine, I'm getting you out of here. You better treat me to a proper meal."

•••

"I think McDonald's is not a proper meal." You said, after swallowing. You were currently sitting in his sports car, eating a Big Mac in a parking lot. "Why can't we sit inside, anyway?"

"Because my car is comfortable." He answered— _while_ chewing. "And I'm not risking another drunk-girl-encounters."

"Cocky much?" You teased. It had been quiet since you left the ramen shop. You didn't know how to proceed, and you trusted him enough to lead you. Until he entered the drive-thru, that is.

He snickered, finishing his burger. "Says the one who lied about being my agent. Confidently too, if I might add."

"I saved you!" you aggressively folded the burger's wrappings, not brave enough to look into his eyes. It was hard, okay? It was never not hard looking straight into a handsome face, even in dim lights. "The key to telling a good lie is confidence. There's a difference between being confident and being arrogant."

"It was a good lie indeed. Do you do that often?" He asked, sipping his cola now. His tone had changed from teasing to pure curiosity.

"What, lying? It comes with the job. You know, giving half-truths and controlling narratives." You answered, not sure if you should tell him about your job. Will he still be here if you say you work with the Adlers? Should you even be here with a Black Jackal player?

"Huh. What do you do anyway? Last time I saw you, you were still in college studying public relations."

"You sound like a creepy old man." You sipped the cola, giving time to yourself to consider your words. "I work for Schweiden."

He started to move the car out of the parking lot, seemingly aware that it was getting late. It made sense because he also had a match tomorrow afternoon—a match with your team. "The electrical company, Schweiden?"

"Yep." You confirmed his suspicion, but not giving more details. "I'm staying at a local inn a few blocks that way."

The short trip to your inn was silent—but not the comfortable silence from before. He was thinking, for sure. You mentally scold yourself. Telling him about lying as your job at his rival company wasn't exactly a good resumé, was it?

Well, it wasn't like you were trying to slither yourself into his life as a love interest, anyway. What did it matter?

"We're here." He announced parking in front of the inn. Why did he park? He could've just dropped you off at the door.

"Well, thank you for the ride, Miya-san." You smiled, unfastening the safety belt.

"Atsumu, please. We've known each other for long." He looked your way, giving you a relaxed smile. "Thank you for helping me."

You nodded because there wasn't anything else to add. You looked at his face, putting it into memory. The twinkle in his warm eyes, faded small freckles on the tip his nose, the lazy grin he made. When will you ever be this close to him again? You can only hear your heart beating in your ears, wondering why you didn't just open the door and end the night.

"What are you thinking?" He asked softly, raising his brows.

"Nothing," you whispered. Why did your voice sound so breathy??

"Well, I was thinking, I should keep my promise to give you a proper meal tomorrow after my match." He said, "And you'd agree because McDonald's wouldn't just cut it."

You couldn't believe your ears. Was he asking you to dinner?

Wait a minute.

"Are you asking, or are you ordering me? I believe I don't answer to cocky athletes."

"Why are you so difficult?" He chuckled, still in a lazy, but confident manner.

You raised one eyebrow, challenging him.

"Okay, then. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

••• •••


	2. Neon Orange Roadblock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were anxious to meet Atsumu again, not sure what to give him as an answer. You could feel something was rearing its’ ugly head, but you didn’t know what it was and when it would strike.

•••

_"Okay, then. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"_

•••

You fiddled with your askew orange tie scarf, trying to keep yourself from getting distracted. Since yesterday, your mind had gone haywire. You gave Atsumu a non-answer, trying to give yourself time to think before jumping to swim with _the_ shark. Well, before that, _you_ were a shark.

You were a danger to yourself. You were overthinking and cutting sleep. Not to mention you didn’t quite digest breakfast; your stomach was too upset from nerves. You were anxious to find out how Atsumu would react to you being an enemy. You didn’t lie per se yesterday, but it sure felt like it. You _did_ work for Schweiden, but you didn’t mention that you were assigned to handle the Adlers.

How would he feel, asking someone who cheered for a team that was against him?

Scratch that, you never cheered. It was merely a job, after all. It shouldn’t even matter that much; this wasn’t _Romeo & Juliet_. You might not even meet him. You’d been the Adler’s additional publicist since you graduated in June, but the season started in October. Last time the Adlers and the Jackals had a match in the said season, you were down with a cold.

Technically, you haven’t met him as the Adler’s publicist yet. You survived half a season; what’s a couple of days more?

Your train of thought stopped when Kageyama entered your peripheral vision. He was already in his jersey, ready to warm up. To think this guy was the reason you ended up in this position was disconcerting.

Kageyama’s agent was a hotshot jerk who often leave him alone into events _without_ a publicist, so Schweiden had to intervene. You were at Schweiden’s office for your job interview when he got called up. One friendly exchange with Kageyama, your past as Nekoma’s manager suddenly got brought up in the interview after. It was a sick joke that Schweiden’s PR team for the Adler was short-staffed at that time.

“Is there anything I should talk about in interviews after the match?” He asked, going for your notes on the table. You snatched it back, then shoving him out of the staff room. He wasn’t supposed to be here, so you led him down the hallway.

“There’s nothing to worry. I’ll tell you when the match is over.” You said, looking back at him without stopping. Kageyama was nervous about interviews because he thought he needed to be friendly and bubbly always. “Just focus on the match first.”

Maybe building a mysterious persona would be better for him. It would take his edge off a bit, for he didn’t have to force his grins nor try to give genuine smiles. Plus, his pretty face fitted that persona. You made a mental note to pitch that to your boss later.

“Okay, but you’ll stay there—” he said, stopping mid-sentence and mid-walk. He nodded toward someone in front of you—someone who you’d been avoiding since you arrived at the venue.

“I thought your work with Schweiden, not the Adlers?” Atsumu asked without preamble, raising his eyebrows at you. 

Well, holy macaroni on a bike.

•••

It was already the last set, and Atsumu was serving. You decided to sit on a weird-angled seat, where you can see the court clearly but avoiding anyone’s view. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that effective, because Atsumu had found your spot the moment he entered the court.

The problem was, he kept looking your way after his successful serves. Sometimes, he threw in corny finger guns. Why must he be the one who had killer serves? You could only survive so many winks before your face turned into the colour of a boiled lobster.

And you thought he would be discouraged after knowing you work with the Adlers. Yes, you heard that right: you were working _with_ the Adlers, not _for_ them. That was what you said and stressed after he confronted you in the hallway. He was surprisingly okay with it, but then he asked if you were seeing Kageyama.

What did you think you were? An idiot who wanted to get fired? You decided to answer that with an eye roll. Atsumu just snickered and asked if he could get his official yes for dinner. Well, it went more like him telling himself you gave him a yes as an answer, and you were merely a witness.

“I’ll be seeing you from the court, Eagle!” was what he said before parting ways almost a couple hours ago. You know, because Adler means eagle. Get it?

Corny indeed.

The Jackals won after a knife-edge of a match, and that would affect the teams’ positions. Then, it was time for you to go to work. You do whatever the team’s publicist needed help with, making sure interviews went smoothly. Namely, keeping Hoshiumi and Kageyama from saying the darnedest things.

The hardest part was feeling a set of eyes on you. It wasn’t a pleasant stare—it was one that enveloped you with gross, slimy hatred. What else were you supposed to do other than ignore it?

•••

Atsumu filled his head with thoughts of you while stretching after the match. He couldn't see you after interviews because he needed to cool down his body. It didn’t stop his mind from running, though.

There was something about you that made him regret not trying to get to know you sooner.

When you saved him back in the ramen shop, you surprised him with your sharp and quick wit. Not to mention he never got to see you up close before that night. You were a beauty—though not as flashy nor bright as other girls who usually caught your eyes.

He was humming happily with his teammates after stretches when his agent pulled him aside to talk privately. He nodded to Bokuto to let the others know to go ahead.

“Those stunts you pulled on the court would raise questions,” he started, looking solemn.

Atsumu took a sip from his water bottle, confused by his statement. Was he talking about the finger guns? So what if he did those to a pretty girl? He wasn’t well-known for being reserved on the court like Sakusa. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“You're trying to get into some errand girl's pants, and she's working with a rival team!” his agent said, clearly upset. Atsumu knew his agent was good at his job. His clients were successful, and he was trustworthy. Since when he became a meddling helicopter agent? Had Atsumu been blind to this behaviour since the beginning?

“She’s not an errand girl,” Atsumu growled, finally giving him his full attention. He needed to set him straight. “and you have no right whatsoever to control my private life.”

It had been so long since he had the urge to think about things other than volleyball. He knew that volleyball would always come first, but it couldn’t last forever. It never even crossed his mind that he would crave intimate relationships. Now that he had the chance to grab onto an opportunity to taste it, this guy just had to ruin it.

“Not even if your 'private' life makes you lose fans… and possible sponsors?” He rose up like Atsumu just challenged him, even emphasizing with his air quotes. Seriously, what is wrong in trying to take a girl out on a date? “Imagine the bad publicity and the bullying that errand girl had to go through?

“If you just wanted to relieve yourself, you could just go into a bar like you always do.” His agent said, determined to make it go his way.

That was true that he never had a hard time getting sex out of girls. He _did_ want to have that with you, eventually. Whatever it was between you and him was something more than just an easy lay. You weren’t the type of girl people want for their one-night stands, because they’d want more. _He_ wanted more.

Atsumu went livid listening to the crap his agent was spewing. He stepped in closer and jabbed his pointer finger on his agent’s chest.

“First of all, I told you she’s not an errand girl,” Atsumu said every word he stressed like he was threatening his agent. His accent got heavier and heavier as he spoke with anger. “Last of all, whatever I intend to do with her is none of _yer_ fucking business.”

“Too bad,” His agent said calmly before adding, “I’ve already told her to pack up and go home because dinner was _fucking_ cancelled.”

••• •••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry if anyone was confused and disappointed because I didn't post a timeline or spoiler warning in the beginning. I hope this chapter wasn't overwhelming or seemed to develop way too fast. Thank you for reading once again!


	3. Cunning Red Fox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Determined to stop falling into the same hole over and over again, you say no to everything he had to say.

•••

_“I’ve already told her to pack up and go home because dinner was **fucking** cancelled.”_

•••

You were lounging in your bed, hair washed, and feet warm. The room wasn’t so bad, considering it was _way_ cheaper than the one you were supposed to be in. The sheets were clean—as clean as hotels can be—and they had all the necessities. You were just glad that you didn’t need to worry about another creature like rodents having dinner with their family under the bed.

Speaking of dinner, you didn’t have it. Unless you call a couple of granola bars and a juice box dinner. This is the second day you went without a proper dinner—even though they were promised. By the same person, if you might add.

Well, he could shove dinner up his butt.

Just remembering how it was cancelled made you want to smash your phone to the wall. What kind of person made his agent cancel dinners for him?

You were so sure he was excited to take you to dinner but were you wrong? Of course, not. He was obvious about it. What changed? Did he find out something about you that turned him off? Or was he just busy like his agent said?

Or was it a strategic, one-sided move made by his agent?

That particular question had been bothering you all evening, like a restless dog breathing down your neck. It screamed louder than other suspects, but you couldn’t be too sure.

As much as you’d like to dismiss the suspicion, it had some good points you needed to mull over. As someone who worked more or less in the same field, you knew it was good to prevent scandals from happening. Seeing a regular person wouldn’t be a problem, but an opposing team staff?

Well, it wasn’t like you were leaking information to the enemy—but sports fans could be a little hardcore. And fans are important to the team. The more appreciation and anticipation they receive, the better they play.

You scrolled your social media feed, taking mental notes on which media would be on tomorrow's match. Today’s match was a little unfortunate, but the media and the fans seemed to be positive about it. The photos of the players turn out good too.

Then you found a video that highlighted Atsumu’s serves on the match, cornering you back into your overthinking bubble.

Even if it _was_ a one-sided-decision by his agent, why didn’t he try to contact you? Though you didn’t exchange numbers yet, it wasn’t like you lived under a rock in the mountains without the internet.

You scolded yourself for thinking of unnecessary and unknown things outside your control. All you could do was focus on your job and get a good night's sleep. You wouldn’t meet Atsumu tomorrow, and you wouldn’t think about him. So, you closed your eyes and prayed that your dreams wouldn’t include one sexy Black Jackal player.

•••

The match started at thirteen hundred the next day, so you ate lunch at the arena. Lunch wasn’t fancy either—you just popped into a convenience store and bought a lunch box. Your other colleagues were either busy or had lunch with others.

It wasn’t bad, just a tad bit lonely.

Well, at least you didn’t have to face Atsumu today. The schedule said that his match started hours after the Adler’s, so there would be no window for both of you to meet. It was better this way. You wouldn’t hope for more, and he wouldn’t need to justify anything.

You needed to stop thinking about him ASAP, so you went straight to the seats facing the court to work ahead. You scrolled the team’s social media accounts, wondering what events would be perfect for the holidays. It shouldn’t be too time-consuming, since the players needed their day-offs. You were checking the players’ availability from this week onward when someone plopped next to your seat.

“Hey, Eagle.” The person greeted—voice deep and smooth, just like you remembered it two nights ago.

Of course. Of course, he’d be here hours early. Of course, he had to look good, freshly showered, smelled nice in a plain t-shirt, and his team track pants. You couldn’t catch a freaking break. Why did he have to pop up whenever you weren’t ready but vanish when you expected him to show up?

“Are you here early to harass me,” you began, looking back at your shared calendar on your phone, “or are you here for something else?”

He was quiet for a moment, probably trying to sort out his words. You couldn’t crack, or he’d slither his way in again. And you’d fall for it just for him to disappoint you. Again.

“Here to apologise.” He said. His cocky tone you heard this past couple of days was gone. His voice was more calculated and careful now. “I’m sorry I cancelled yesterday’s dinner.”

“You didn’t cancel it,” you responded quickly, feeling anger bubbling up your throat. “your agent did. I guess I nailed my agent impression back at the ramen shop, huh?”

He shut his mouth, just looking at your face that was glued to the screen—which you definitely didn’t focus on. Your dry humour didn’t amuse him. It was true, though. His agent was effective—straight to the point, no feelings, blunt, and polite.

“Yeah, he was onto me. I shouldn’t have pulled the stunts on the match because he thought I was monkeyin’ around.” He said truthfully, a little ashamed. “Can you give me one more chance?”

Now you gave him your full attention, looking into his eyes. Was he serious?

“No.” You answered, determined not to fall for the same trap. “I’m gone even before your match starts. I think it’s best for us to stay as acquaintances.”

Not friends. Just a half level above strangers. You didn’t even know what one dinner would lead to. It wasn’t like you could drop your life in Tokyo and live here in Osaka to be with him— _if_ that dinner ended up giving you two a relationship.

“I don’t think it is.” He stayed in his seat when you stood up, trying to get away from him—you thought the conversation was over. “You don’t even want to try, so you wouldn’t know what’s best.”

“What do you expect from this _‘chance’,_ Miya-san?” You said, hands on your hips. “I live hundreds of kilometres away from you. We wouldn’t see each other for weeks, then only spending time for a day or two. I think it’s a hard-freaking-work.”

“Oh? Someone’s been thinkin’ ahead.” He smiled now, his arrogance back. “I think you’re worth the hard work.”

“You’re getting way over your head.” You rolled your eyes. This guy’s relentless. “Have you forgotten that your agent is against this? I think I understand him, from a PR standpoint.”

“I got a plan! I had thought about it last night.” He said, now full-on grinning. “How about this: spend time with me here ‘till the season starts again, then you can decide if I’m worth your hard work.”

You walked away, feeling so defeated. Do you know the frustration of arguing with someone with a whole different kind of logic? You didn’t even want to humour him anymore.

“I told you, I’m gone in three hours. You didn’t even ask if I had plans throughout the holidays.” You said, knowing Atsumu’s on your heels.

“Okay. Are you free until the first match of next year?” You can hear his grin in his voice, almost like silent laughter. “Now, I’m confident. You’re so dead-set on saying no but look—we’re going somewhere with this conversation.”

You groan, hating the fact that he was right. He kept slipping through cracks on your poorly built walls like you didn’t even _try_ to build it.

“No! I still need to work until Christmas Eve, and I have plans for New Year’s. Don’t even think about it!” You said, keeping your pace on the hallways.

“Okay, then I have exactly seven days between 24th and 1st. I can work with that.” He reached for your hand, halting you from walking. He looked into your eyes, now a little pleading. “Give me a chance, Eagle.”

You frown, realising that he got to negotiate your answer. You felt your nose flaring, remembering how bad it would hurt if it ever ends. If you got hurt just from cancelled dinner, what about more than dinner? You catch feelings easily.

“I told you, I can’t.” You pulled your hand, moving away from him. “I’m flying to Tokyo in three hours, and I am not catching any crappy flight back here for you.”

•••

The night was finally over. You were so exhausted from standing and walking throughout the night in high heels. The players have decided to give the elderly a surprise Christmas party at the retirement home. Not all of them came, just ones with no plans. The team was happy to provide the elderly with some festivities their family or the home can’t. Not to mention the donation they gave to improve their old days’ quality at the retirement home.

You were ready to crash after a hot shower when an envelope on your bedside table caught your attention. You’d been avoiding the envelope since it arrived three days ago. Now you had run out of time, and you hadn’t come to any decision.

The envelope held a note and a first-class plane ticket to Osaka on 25th—which was tomorrow. The note just said _Give Me a Chance_ in swirly, swift writing. You didn’t even want to know how he got a first-class ticket from a big city to another big city on Christmas day in a short amount of time.

Atsumu’s going all out to get that chance, and you knew he was confident you’d come.

Would you?

He was slick, for sure. What good would come out of this exchange? His agent was onto him, and you didn’t know how to manage a long-distance relationship. Not to mention the things to worry about: the bad publicity if it leaked out to the public, the fans, his team, his career, your job… your feelings.

On the other side, what would you miss? A chance to have a good holiday, to know Atsumu better, to probably fall in love?

You started to look for your suitcase in the closet without thinking.

_ It wasn’t like you’d drop everything for him. _ You pulled your case out, then looking through your coats and tops.

_ It was just a probation week. You could say no on New Years’. _ You dropped all the fabric you’d gathered from the closet on the bed.

_ You didn’t have anyone to celebrate Christmas with anyway. Your parents were on a holiday cruise, and your friends had plans with their families. _ You started folding your clothes and threw toiletries in too.

_ It was just a chance for a week. _ You finally zip your black suitcase up.

_ What’s the worst that could happen? _

•••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was late. Thank you for reading!


	4. Honey Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you give him another chance to redeem himself because you were curious of what would happen? Or was it because you hoped something would happen out of it?

•••

_‘It was just a chance for a week.’_ _You finally zip your black suitcase up._

_‘What’s the worst that could happen?’_

•••

The flight was not crappy—as expected of a first-class seat. You even squeezed in a quick power nap. Now, you waited for your luggage while pondering how to react when you see Atsumu. He had not contacted you since that last match, which made you feel relieved and annoyed at the same time. You appreciate him giving you space, but now, where are you supposed to go?

Do you stay inside the airport or somewhere else? Was he meeting you now, or later in the evening? Where are you supposed to stay? Hotel? Motel? His place? Why haven’t you thought of these things before jumping on the plane?

You bit your nail, dragging your suitcase out to the exit. You felt anxiety starting to build, but before you let your mind wander, you felt a presence coming towards you.

A dark silhouette of a tall man was looming over you—and he was big enough to pick up and kidnap you easily. You shudder, trying to move away from him slowly. Why was he standing nearby and doing nothing? Does kidnapping usually happen in crowded public spaces, midday?

Suddenly, your anxiety changed course. You wished Atsumu would appear out of thin air and sweep you away to safety. Then, you felt the man tapping your shoulder.

You jumped and let out a pretty loud yelp before turning around to punch him. Your head spun, but then you were enveloped by a familiar scent—fresh soap and a tint of wood.

“Whoa, hey. Hi.” His voice snapped you out of a stupor, and you see Atsumu’s amused grinning face. “What happened just now? You okay?”

Your face heated up, resembling a cooked lobster in a span of milliseconds. You slapped his chest; frustration and relief poured over. “Are you kidding me?! I thought someone might kidnap me!”

“Who, me?” He feigned surprise, rubbing his wounded chest. Then, he acted like he had a second thought before adding, “Yeah, sounds about right.”

He was wearing a thick, black bomber, washed black jeans, and a black beanie. Beneath all that, all you can see is honey-coloured turtleneck that brought up his honey-coloured eyes. He was beautiful.

Noticing you went silent; he softly smiled and took your suitcase. “Were you nervous?”

“Oh, um…” you stuttered, not knowing whether you should admit it or not. Then, you saw his face, and you knew that he knew.

“Me too.” He said, leading you to the parking lot. “I was nervous you’d stay home and say, ‘fuck him!’”

You laughed a little, feeling the anxiety fading away. How did he do that—effortlessly making you at ease, especially in awkward situations like this? You finally reached his car, and he said to hop in first. As you opened the door, you found a bouquet of big white tulips on your seat.

“What’s wrong? I thought I told you to get in, Eagle.” He went for his seat, starting up his car. Then he saw you staring at the bouquet on your hands. “Those are just flowers, don’t worry. But if you don’t want it, we can chuck it—”

“Thank you.” You said, finally getting in. “I like it.”

“Yeah? Does that mean I’m forgiven?” He went back to his grinning self while you try to understand him. “The lady at the shop said white tulips represent forgiveness. Or did she get it wrong?”

“…I don’t know.” The car was moving away from the parking lot, exiting the terminal. “But what are you sorry for?”

“Is that a trick question?” He chuckled, eyes still on the road. Then he lifted his hands, ready for counting. “One for ruining your ramen dinner. One for making you lie as my agent. Then, one for taking you to McDonald’s.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” you smiled, thinking back to that night.

“Shush, let me finish. One for the finger guns I did at that match,” he cringed, remembering his silly demonstrations. “One for not keeping my promise to get you dinner.”

The car pulled up into a stop at a red light, and he looked at you. “The last one is for not trying hard enough to find you later that night. I came to your inn, you know. The receptionist lady was so strict. And scary. Probably a good thing, though.”

“You did?” You asked, eyes widening, and brows raised to your hairline. “But that counts as six. You got me—” You paused, counting the tulips. “—twelve.”

“Well,” he sighed, sorting out his words. Just slightly, you noticed red tinting his cheeks. Then, he looked right at you and gave you a serious, thoughtful gaze.

“The other six are for new beginnings and chances the first six created.” He smiled, and the light turned green. “Thank you for giving me those six.”

•••

“Okay, here we are,” Atsumu said, opening the door to beautiful a two-story house. He had an agreement with the owner to lend him—you—the second unit upstairs.

“Is it fine if I use it?” you looked around the beautiful space, afraid to impose. “Are you also staying here?”

“Yeah, Omi-omi said it was fine. In exchange, you and I house-sit. More or less.” He answered, looking around the kitchen cabinet for something. “And no, I’m not staying.”

He found a vase and gestured for you to put the tulips in it. Then, he looked at you with teasing eyes, “Unless you want me to.”

You pushed him with your shoulder, beelining for the vase. “Get that expression off your face, you weirdo.”

But on second thought, did you want him to stay?

“It’s safe, right?” You asked as you finished putting the tulips in, looking alarmed. “The house, I mean?”

“Why, afraid someone will kidnap you?” He snickered. It was getting obvious that he liked teasing you. It was a weird feeling when an acquaintance who never minded you for so long suddenly became comfortable enough to mess with you. “Do you want me to stay and protect you from danger?”

“That’s funny. So far, you’re the only potential danger to me.” You frown, remembering how he almost made your heart leap out of your throat at the airport.

“Yeah, I am dangerous. Dangerously hot.” He flexed his biceps in the weirdest pose you had ever seen. He looked ridiculous you could not help the laugh that bubbled up.

“Anyways, it’s safe, and I’m always a call away.” He straightened up, gathering his car keys. “Now, you go unpack, relax, and get ready for tonight’s dinner date. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

“Date? Since when this dinner thing has become a date?”

“Um, since you agreed to fly here on Christmas day?” He grinned, already going for the front door. You followed suit, a thousand thoughts running through your head. “It’s long overdue, so of course it’s upgraded!”

“What should I wear? Where are we going?!” you asked, voice getting higher and higher.

“A dress? Jeans? Both? I don’t know women’s fashion that much, Eagle.” Before you can regain your composure, he was already at his car door, waving. “See you later!”

•••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this very, very late update. I had to withdraw from the fandom for a while. Thank you for anyone who read this far! I'll try my best to finish it!


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